


Snape Receives the Dark Mark

by rayvyn2k



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvyn2k/pseuds/rayvyn2k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My response to the Knockturn Alley Fic Challenge #1--Genfic Missing Moments  #34--Snape Receives the Dark Mark. This was written in August of 2004.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snape Receives the Dark Mark

He stood in a cold chamber, in the center of a circle of people. He was nervous, but not afraid. Tall and thin, some might say gangly, he was clad in a pair of trousers and a shirt, and covered by a long, scratchy robe. His black hair hung loose over his shoulders. He had been ‘abducted’, blindfolded and Disapparated to—an underground chamber of some sort, if the temperature was any indication. Probably a dungeon of one of the members—and it wasn’t difficult to guess which one. 

There was incense burning and the other members were chanting: 

_“We hail Lord Voldemort!_  
His praise and glory we proclaim!  
We hail Lord Voldemort!  
Almighty is his immortal name! 

The chant was low, monotonous and repeated again and again. He restrained a smirk. Pointless mind games. He had trained himself to be immune to such insignificant tricks. He wondered idly how long the rite would take, whether it would be painful; and then realized he didn’t really care. He was content to finally belong…somewhere. His mind wandered as he waited for the ceremony to begin…

He had wanted to belong for so many years…had tried to belong…

Unfortunately, no one wanted to include a sullen, skinny, too-smart-for-his-own-good wizard in their little cliques at school. The Ravenclaws were afraid of his fascination with the Dark Arts. The Hufflepuffs were afraid of him. He smirked to himself at the memory of how they scattered from his path as he strode down the halls. The other Slytherins had sneered at his shabby clothes and unkempt hair. 

But the Gryffindors were the worst. Especially Potter and his gang of four. 

How many times had he been tormented by them? How many insults, how much harassment, how often had he endured their abuse? For seven years he had put up with it. At first, he had not understood, had tried to reach out—to make friends. Before long, he came to understand…he was destined to walk alone. So, he stopped reaching out. He stopped caring about his appearance and stopped curbing his tongue. He became the master of the cutting remark. He withdrew into himself, tried to become invisible—but they seemed to be drawn to him somehow. 

The blatant torment continued for five years—until it finally went too far. He might have been killed if not for…well, it was a good thing Potter got cold feet. After that, they ignored him for the most part and he was relieved. Dumbledore must have stepped in—

Dumbledore…no, best to not think of what his old Headmaster might say about this decision.

He had studied harder, worked harder, and had driven himself to the point of exhaustion. He discovered an affinity for potions and cultivated his talent, absorbing theories and recipes like a sponge. His work brought him attention; he was offered an apprenticeship after graduation and took it, eagerly learning everything he could from his Potions Master. It was his work during this time which drew the interest of Lucius Malfoy.

He knew the Malfoys, of course. But they traveled in a better social circle than his family, so he had never really associated with them growing up. Besides, Lucius had been four years ahead of him in school, and wildly popular, so it was hardly surprising that he hadn’t really noticed the taciturn, dark-haired youth. 

That had changed when Lucius wanted to purchase a potion his master was not willing to brew. It was a Dark potion, of course. Quite illegal. After his Master flatly refused the commission, the apprentice had owled Lucius and offered to brew it himself. The offer was accepted, the potion brewed in secret and delivered in stealth. In one fell swoop, Severus Snape had made a name for himself. He continued his apprenticeship during the day, but at night he worked brewing Dark potions in the private lab Lucius had set up for him at Malfoy Manor. Lucius was a frequent visitor and talked admiringly about Lord Voldemort and his campaign to purify the Wizarding world. He recruited Severus with promises of the power there was to be had within Voldemort’s organization, and insinuations that someone with his talent for potion brewing would be welcomed with open arms. He hinted that Severus would have no trouble rising to the very top ranks of the Death Eaters very quickly and possibly into the inner circle of Lord Voldemort himself.

Severus found the lure of that kind of power intoxicating and impossible to resist. So he agreed—which was why he was standing blindfolded in a cold dungeon surrounded by a group of chanting, robed figures. 

The chanting increased in volume and intensity until it reached a crescendo— _“Hail Lord Voldemort!”_ —and then stopped abruptly. 

There was a loud crack, and the sulfurous smell of Apparation. Severus waited patiently, ignoring the cold seeping into his body from the floor. The quiet in the room was absolute as the minutes crawled by. Severus remained utterly still—he wasn’t afraid or unnerved by the silence. It was merely the absence of sound. 

More mind games.

If this was all, he was going to be very disappointed. 

Then he heard a low, rather pleasant voice in front of him.

“Severus Snape, do you desire to join me in my holy quest to purify the human race?”

“Yes, my Lord.” 

“Do you come to me of your own free will?”

“I do, my Lord.”

The group answered in unison: “We are strengthened by unity, conviction and allegiance to our Master.”

Severus remained silent. He felt a slight movement of air and then the voice was low and deadly and murmuring right into his ear:

“Woe to the faithless and insincere who assume obligations lightly and then forget them.”

The group responded: “Woe to the faithless!”

Severus felt a flicker of fear but kept his voice steady as he repeated the words of the rite which Lucius had given him to memorize.

“You are my lord. I am your disciple. I recognize no other gods, saviors or masters. You are my hope and my strength. You are my nourishment and my elixir. You are the fire in my veins and the guide to my ultimate peace. I have nothing that is not yours; there is nothing that is not yours.” 

Severus sank to his knees and bowed his head. “I offer myself to you.”

The voice rang out, “Do not complain at any trial, a seal is on your lips! Let it warn you to keep silent and secret what is here made known to you!” 

“I pledge you my fealty, my lord,” Severus vowed.

“Rise, Severus.”

He got to his feet in one smooth motion. 

_“Evanesco!”_

Severus felt the robe and clothing he had been wearing melt away. The cool air of the room caused gooseflesh to appear on his skin and he shivered. Hands on his shoulders guided him until he reached a platform. He was pushed forward, bent at the waist, and his arms and legs were bound. His breath quickened, and fear crept into his belly. The voice spoke again, so close he could feel the warm breath on his face.

“Severus Snape, you have come before me of your own free will. You have offered yourself to me,” Lord Voldemort’s mouth was right next to his ear. “I accept.” 

Severus shivered when he felt a tongue outline his ear as a hand slid down his back and traced his buttocks.

 _Oh no, he wasn’t going to…_

Voldemort’s other hand was making its lazy way around him until he had wrapped his long fingers around Severus’ cock. 

_Oh shit, he is!_

Voldemort began to stroke it slowly, tantalizingly, until it was firm and hard. He trailed his tongue down Severus’ neck until he came to his shoulder and then he bit him hard, drawing blood and a gasp. He laved his tongue across the spot.

“Pain and pleasure, Severus. You will know both in my service—and at my hand.” Voldemort caressed his cock as he slid a wet finger between his buttocks. 

Severus tensed, and whimpered in protest.

Both hands stopped moving and Voldemort’s lips returned to his ear. “You have offered yourself to me, Severus, fully and unreservedly. I intend to mark you as mine—as I have marked each initiate.” His voice became low and cold. “Will you break your vow of fealty so quickly?” 

Severus was horrified. He closed his eyes behind the blindfold and silently cursed Lucius Malfoy, who had said there was an initiation, and even that he would be marked with Voldemort’s seal on his arm. The bastard had not even hinted at what kind of initiation it would be—knowing that Severus would never have agreed. And now it was much too late to back out. Severus knew he had seen too much already and would not be allowed to live if he did not allow Voldemort to continue. He willed himself to be calm, to fight down the revulsion and humiliation he was feeling.

His voice was barely above a whisper. “Forgive me, my lord. Do with me what you will.”

“I do not require your acquiescence. However, you have gratified me by giving it. So, my initiate, I think I shall choose more pleasure than pain for you this evening.”

With that, Voldemort plunged his finger deep into Severus’ tight opening while simultaneously stroking his cock, lubricating it with the semen which was leaking from the tip. Severus gasped. Voldemort eased his finger out and then slid it in again, curving it up slightly to rub against Severus’ prostate, causing a shock of pleasure to snake through him. His cock jumped and the other man chuckled. He slipped another finger inside on the next stroke, stretching the tight opening. 

Severus was drowning in sensation. The expert hand on his cock, and the terrifying fingers in his arse were working together, battering down his defenses, shattering his beliefs. He unconsciously bucked his hips, thrusting his cock into the tight fist, and then impaling his arse on those long fingers. It felt so good. He imagined it was Narcissa Malfoy and his balls tightened…he was so close…and then both hands were gone. He moaned. 

Voldemort chuckled, shattering the illusion. He leaned across Severus’ back, and Severus felt the other man’s erection through his robes. Voldemort murmured into his ear. “Don’t worry, my initiate, I have promised you pleasure, and pleasure you shall have.” The warmth was gone from Severus’ back as Voldemort straightened, but he could still feel the bulge against his arse.

“Lucius!” Voldemort snapped.

“Yes, my lord?” 

“Get under the table and suck our little plaything’s cock—pleasure him. However, if you let him come before I do, you will spend the rest of the evening under _Cruciatus_ , do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly, my lord.”

In moments, Severus felt his cock enveloped in the hot mouth of Lucius Malfoy, and he moaned again. Behind him, Voldemort was spreading his arse cheeks and murmuring a lubrication charm. He didn’t have time to wonder what was happening because he felt the head of his new lord’s slick cock probing his entrance. Severus gasped as he felt the head slide in and he tensed reflexively.

“Relax, my initiate, or it will go worse for you.”

Severus tried. He heaved a deep breath that became a scream when Voldemort plunged his entire length into his arse. His imagination was not good enough to divert his mind from what was happening to him. Even Malfoy’s greedy mouth on his flagging cock did little to distract him from the pain as Voldemort fucked him hard and fast. Suddenly the man behind him adjusted his angle, and his cock rubbed Severus’ prostate, sending electric shocks of horrific pleasure through him. 

To his dismay, he became hard again, and felt his balls tighten once more. Lucius noticed and slowed his ministrations torturously. Severus’ cock ached with the need for release. He felt Voldemort quicken his pace, and prayed he was nearly finished.

His prayer was answered when the other man’s rhythm became more desperate; the pounding harder. Lucius went to work on his cock again with a vengeance, and Severus was consumed by sensation. It was only a few moments before Voldemort shrieked:

“You—are—mine!” 

As he slammed his cock home in orgasmic ecstasy, filling Severus with his seed, he murmured a few words. Severus felt his forearm begin to burn as if acid was eating away his flesh. He screamed as he came in Lucius’ hot mouth, and then lay on the table panting; hot tears of agony and shame streaming down his cheeks. His skin cooled as both men moved away, and he wished he had never agreed to any of this.

Severus flinched when Voldemort patted his arse. “Pleasure and pain, Severus Snape. I promised you both and I always keep my promises.” 

Severus wondered what he had gotten himself into. His whole body ached, but his arse and his forearm screamed with agony. He bit down on a shriek as his bonds were released and strong arms on either side helped him to his feet. A robe—velvet, he thought—was dropped over him. At last, the blindfold was removed, and he swayed, blinking in the torchlight. 

He was in the center of a circle of people who were all robed as he was. Standing in front of him was a tall, gaunt man wearing a thin, cruel smile who could only be Voldemort. 

“Welcome to my service, Severus Snape. You are marked as one of us.”

Severus bowed low, resisting with effort the urge to flee. “I am honored, my lord.”

“Rise, Severus. Join the circle of Death Eaters.”

He straightened and walked unsteadily to stand between Lucius and a dark-haired woman. He glanced down at his arm to see what had caused the horrific burning he felt. His eyes widened.

It was a skull, with a snake protruding from its mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks and wet sloppy snogs to my awesome betas, Snorkfuckle, Lupinbabe and Nymphadora. This wouldn't be as good without your fantastic suggestions and advice.


End file.
